Self-Googling: a lesson in narcissism

A recent TIME article detailed one of the latest Web trends: self-Googling. (Or “Egosurfing,” to be more derisive.) I had totally never even thought of Googling myself before reading this article and so, naturally, thought it’d be fun to Google myself, which I definitely had not done before. Since I’m nothing more than a humble little columnist who aspires to have a modestly successful column in a respectable newspaper one day, I thought that maybe it’d be a good idea to see where I stand and just how much work I have to do. I entered “jose martinez” into the Google box and let it rip.

My God – I’m a nobody.

I tried an image search first. As it turns out, when you image search my name, pictures of a good-looking tennis player by the name of María José Martínez Sánchez will be prevalent among the search results. (She’s got four names and four accents – she is awesome.) Also, almost every picture you see will be of a Latino. I was discouraged, until I got to the twelfth page of results: One of my old Facebook profile photos was grinning back at me. Then, on the 46th page, I saw my Loyolan photo, under which read “José Martinez – Opinion Editor.” One million, thirty thousand results and two pictures – one of which is outdated and the other which doesn’t even have the accent over the “e.” Things were looking bleak.

Actually, things didn’t stop looking bleak when I Googled myself on the site’s regular search engine. Nothing came up in 66 pages of results. And, Google would not let me move beyond that 66th page. It’s like it was telling me, gently, but with a pitiful tone – “Give up.” Google’s a good friend.

I should have expected this. I’ve known for a long time that if there’s anything unique about me, it’s certainly not my name. An obnoxiously optimistic person would say that just means that I have to strive to become known for what I do, rather than just be another name. And I suppose that hypothetical optimist is right, in some respects – after all, how legit is the fame of people like Paris Hilton, Perez Hilton and Kevin Federline? They don’t really do much.

It’s also good, for everyone’s sake, that I didn’t have spectacular Google results. If I’d come up on the first page, oh boy – my head wouldn’t fit through a wide doorway. I’d probably be like those people who only talk about themselves, assuming other people care about what they do on their own time.

And God knows no one wants that.

-Jose Martinez

Abort blind Catholic dogmatism

Last month, TIME Magazine featured an article that shocked me for more than one reason: A nine-year-old Brazilian girl who was raped and impregnated with twins by her stepfather was excommunicated by the Roman Catholic Church for undergoing an abortion. Her mother, who helped the girl receive the procedure, and the doctor who carried it out were excommunicated as well. (The article doesn't say what happened to the father.)

Brazilians are angry about this – and rightfully so. First, Brazilian law holds that abortion is illegal except in cases of rape, or when having the baby would endanger the life of the mother. Tragically, both of those scenarios hold true in this case, and yet the Church still chose to strip this young girl of her membership in the Catholic Church, claiming that “she could have had a cesarean section.”

That's easy to say when it’s not your daughter who’s just had her virginity stolen from her by a man who is supposed to love her unconditionally; that’s easy to say when it’s not your daughter whose life is on the line, and when all you’re concerned with is Catholic dogma.

In this case, the Catholic hierarchy – more specifically, Archbishop Jose Cardoso Sobrinho, who announced the excommunication – failed spectacularly in living up to the Catholic Church’s mission of compassion. According to the article, Sobrinho said, “God’s laws dictate that abortion is a sin and that transgressors are no longer welcome in the Roman Catholic Church.” (Rape, evidently, is not enough to warrant excommunication.)

Sobrinho went on to instill a hierarchical view on the value of life: “Abortion is much more serious than killing an adult. An adult may or may not be innocent, but an unborn child is most definitely ignored. Taking that life cannot be ignored.” Yes, Your Eminence: Abortion is the murder of an innocent, and is a travesty. But how can you claim that any life is more important or worth more than any other? Who are you to say that the life of an unborn child is worth more than that of a terminally ill 78-year-old convicted murderer? I thought only God had that ability to judge.

The sadness of this case is overwhelming: A family was broken apart, and then kicked out of the institution that has incredible healing power; a nine-year-old girl’s virginity was taken from her; an unborn pair of twins was murdered. For the Church to do what it did to these “perpetrators” is a blow to the Church's credibility and reputation – when it takes up positions like this that are rigidly opposed to considering the complex ethical circumstances of a given situation, it only lends credence to the idea that the Church is an intolerant organization.

As someone who is against abortion, I challenge the Church to come up with some way to deal with abortion other than criminalizing it. With this case, the Vatican sent a message that it is not going to minister to those people caught up in situations where it seems like abortion is the only option; instead, it is going to turn them away.

With people like Archbishop Cardoso Sobrinho stupidly comparing abortion to the Holocaust – which, by the way, was an ideological, systematic execution of an entire people fueled by an irrational hatred – how will the Church ever be able to create a space for dialogue? According to Sobrinho, the Church doesn't want that: “We know that people have other ideas, but if they do, then they are not Catholic. We want people who adhere to God's laws.”

Your Eminence, mankind would be in big, big trouble if God only wanted people who adhere to his laws.

-Jose Martinez

The commencement speaker: President Obama

Fr. Jonathan Morris is FOX News’ religious contributor, and he is not happy. As it turns out, the University of Notre Dame had the audacity to invite the president of the United States to speak at commencement this year, as well as receive an honorary law degree. He accepted – those honorary degrees have got to be the best perk ever.

In a recent blog post, Morris wrote that “hundreds of thousands of American Catholics, including high-ranking church officials, have expressed outrage over what they see as Notre Dame’s betrayal of [distinctly Catholic] values for the sake of worldly prestige.” Calling Notre Dame the “jewel of American Catholicism,” Morris questions how “Notre Dame officials can reconcile their choice to honor a president who has rejected – and continues to reject so aggressively – their cornerstone value of the right to life.”

Morris uses misleading language. First, people aren’t upset because they believe President Obama betrays “distinctly Catholic values” – they’re upset because he’s a pro-choice president. (Only use the plural when you’re referring to more than one distinctly Catholic value, Father.) But, if this is about the sanctity of life, then why wasn’t there an outcry when President Bush spoke at Notre Dame’s 2001 commencement? He was the guy who’d later go to war and cause thousands of American deaths, not to mention huge Iraqi and Afghani casualties. You’ll have to forgive me for remembering that abortion and stem-cell research aren’t the only issues when it comes to the right to life.

In other news, Notre Dame doesn’t need any more prestige, Fr. Morris. To accuse the university of seeking Obama as its commencement speaker for the sake of fame is as close-minded as saying Obama shouldn’t be president simply because of his stance on a single issue. Notre Dame, who has clearly said they don’t support all of the president’s views, sends a clear message with this invitation: “We’re open to dialogue, and won’t completely shut those with differing opinions out.” It’s funny, because in a Feb. 2006 blog post, Morris wrote, “Respect for belief is just as important as freedom of expression. They were never meant to be at odds with each other.” I guess that doesn’t apply when the other person’s belief isn’t the same as yours.

Morris thinks that Notre Dame sends out a different message, though: “As you go forth into this world, the best way to find common ground on divisive issues, as President Obama has invited us to do, is to whitewash our institutions of what makes us uniquely Catholic, Protestant, Jewish . . . or whatever else gets in the way of prestige, or the sitting president’s agenda.” I’d like to see that press release. How about this, Padre Morris: By speaking at the commencement of a Catholic institution, President Obama is gesturing that he’s willing to be in conversation even with those who expressly disagree with him, in an ecumenical spirit of sorts. That’s kind of what presidents do.

As a Catholic, I certainly stand in opposition to some of what Obama stands for.
The world – the Church especially – would benefit from a certain spirit of open-mindedness, though, that at the very least would allow people to enter into dialogue with those they disagree with. If Obama came to LMU for commencement, what would it say about our University if we were to start a petition like this to prevent that from happening? Can we really say we’re committed to a service of faith, the promotion of justice and the education of the whole person if we shut out those who don’t think the same way we do? Fr. Morris seems to think so.

Kudos to Notre Dame for nabbing the president of the United States for commencement speaker. Kudos to President Obama for agreeing to speak at a Catholic institution. Fr. Morris, and anyone who signed the petition with the sensationalist title (“Notre Dame Scandal”): Wake up.

-Jose Martinez

There will be blood, really

I've always had an aversion to needles, especially the kind that doctors jab into your arm in order to suck out a pint of blood. That's why I couldn't believe myself when I agreed to donate blood last week. A few weeks ago, my roommate was taking sign-ups for his service org, and asked if I'd do it. I laughed. "Why not?" he asked. I didn't really have a reason, which ended up being my fatal mistake. "Would you let the doctors draw blood from you if it would save your life?" he asked, innocently. Of course I would. "Then why not let them do it to save other people's lives?"

Damn.

So I signed up and forgot about it – until last night. My roommate told me to make sure to drink lots of fluids and eat a good meal in the morning. I was touched at his care and concern, until I realized why he was telling me that. Then I was panicked. I went to bed apprehensive and woke up weak-kneed and nauseous. (And that was before I ate a Sodexo breakfast.) My appointment time arrived, and I texted "I love you bye" to my mom and went to St. Rob's Auditorium, where the bloodsucking was set to happen.

I filled out forms that detailed my medical history, and was more than slightly-tempted to answer "Yes" to questions that asked me about paying for sex in an attempt to escape. I decided against it, because I realized that if I died giving blood, my parents would likely see that form and would be left wondering forever. After that, I was greeted by a very kind nurse who spoke very bad English, and she detailed conditions under which I should not donate. I prayed I heard her correctly.

She pricked my finger and took blood from there without really telling me why. "First time?" she asked. I replied yes. She just laughed, which did little to console me. When she was done, I got up as if to leave – that wasn't so bad. "Oh, no," she laughed. "We use a much larger needle to take blood from your arm after this." Of course, her English was flawless when she said stuff like that. She led to me a chair that reminded me of the chair I'd sit in if I'm ever sentenced to lethal injection, and another happy nurse came and started rubbing my arm down. She told me not to look, so of course I looked when she jabbed an enormous needle into my left arm. I felt a bit dizzy, but then regained my composure and tried to look cool as a pint of blood was taken from me.

It was over in about 10 minutes, and I was told to hang out for about 15 minutes, probably in case I started dying. I went to the cookie table and took more than I was supposed to and had a seat. It really wasn't that bad. The most painful part was when the nurse removed the tape that held the IV in place from my hairy arm. As I sat, some cheery person told me that I saved three lives with my pint of blood. "Well, not yet," I said. Nobody likes a literalist.

That aside, saving three lives is certainly worth the anxiety I experienced beforehand. I used to hate it when people pressured me to give blood, so I won't do that. Instead, I'll just encourage you, tell you the cookies are really good and ask you the same question my roommate asked me: Would you do it to save your own life?

---José Martinez

Photo courtesy of JHeuser| wikicommons